Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“You think of everything.”
My laughter stopped and I became serious. “I have to. My life, Sean’s life, and now yours, is riding on this.” I swallowed the painful dryness that coated my throat. “And I have to go, baby. Sean can only cover for me for so long.”
The light in her eyes dimmed.
I kissed her cheek again. “I’ll make sure to check on you. I’ll send Sean if I can.”
“I would rather it be you.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Only if I can—if it’s safe.”
Her “okay” was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. I could see the glimmer of tears on the edges of her downcast eyes. I yanked her into my arms, holding her tight, breathing her in.
“Soon, Skylar. It’ll be over soon.”
“Come back to me, Cian.”
“I will.” Pressing a kiss to her head, I murmured, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Leaning over, I grabbed my shirt. “You asked for this, I think.”
“You saw me?”
“Sean showed me. He checks the feed on occasion.” I wagged my finger at her, wanting to see her smile. “So, no frontal nudity, understand?”
On cue, she blushed. “I-I would never!” she stammered.
I kissed her again. “I know. But it made you smile.” I traced a finger down her cheek. “And I want you to plan that vacation, Kitten. You, me, the sun. Nothing but time and us. Naked.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.”
Our gazes locked, and silent words flowed between us. Promises of a future I prayed I would be able to give her. A life of sun and smiles. I wanted it more than I thought I possibly could.
She broke our stare and grabbed my shirt. “Be safe, Cian.”
Knowing she was being brave, I ran my finger down her cheek and nodded, unable to speak. I walked to the doorway, pausing. I turned to say goodbye, only to have her shake her head.
“Don’t you dare say that word, Cian. I’ll see you soon. Come back to me.”
“As fast as I can, Kitten. I promise.”
I left with a heavy feeling in my chest.
My heart was still in that room—with her.
Somehow, I knew it always would be.
“Ah, Anthony!” I suppressed a shudder at Orson’s strange singsong voice. Next to his crazed laugh, it was the creepiest thing about him. I turned to see him standing in the doorway of his trophy room, and my heart started to beat faster.
I wanted in that room.
“Orson—am I interrupting?”
“No,” he replied and smiled, more a cruel sneer than a real smile. “I was just…adding.”
I leaned against his desk, trying to appear disinterested. “Someone else anger you? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to assist you.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Rex took care of the matter. Lance is no longer with us.”
“Oh?”
He shook his head. “I found him…lacking. Such a waste.” He grinned widely. “After what you drank last night, I doubt you were up to the job anyway.”
I smirked at him, even as my stomach clenched. Another kid who got in over his head and fell into Orson’s clutches then paid the price.
“I appreciate your understanding,” I stated dryly.
He clapped his hands. “You were most entertaining with your stories, Anthony. You must tell me more one day.”
I shrugged one shoulder, knowing nothing spurred him on more than my indifference.
He turned and reentered the room. I hesitated, then followed him. He rarely let anyone in, but I took the chance he expected me to tag along. I glanced around the room, trying not to appear to be looking for any particular object. Slowly, I walked around, staring, internally cataloging the items I saw. Watches, heavy chains, charms, pens, even billfolds—different items he’d stolen as surely as he’d stolen the lives they once belonged to. Mostly items belonging to men, but there were a few women’s possessions on the shelves. Orson had no qualms killing either gender. I didn’t attempt to touch anything, knowing what his angered reaction would be. I held back a smirk at the pinkie ring Harper had worn as part of his cover—I had given it to Rex as a “gift” for Orson. “Agent White, I presume,” I said sarcastically.
Orson nodded. Then to my surprise, he lifted the ring down and offered it to me. My heart sped up as I took it from him, looking at it with what I hoped was a disinterested face. As he turned away, I pressed my finger to the gold etching, hoping the tiny camera hidden inside would work. Harper hadn’t managed to get it working before I “shot” him. If we could get some close-ups of the room, I could try to figure out how Orson had it rigged. Or at least get more evidence against him.
“What an inept ass,” I muttered. “He deserved that bullet.” I placed the ring back on the shelf and moved along.
As I walked past my father’s watch, I had to swallow, the urge to grab it strong. I wanted to snatch it up, then put a bullet between Orson’s eyes, but the looming presence of Rex in the door behind me helped me remain calm. Instead, I forced myself to study a more delicate object on the shelf beside it. A woman’s pendant with a unique symbol embedded in it. A symbol I recognized—Tony’s journals were all embossed with that symbol.